I began the chapel time last Tuesday morning the same way I always do with the four year-olds in the church's weekday preschool program. The lesson compared the way my new baby entered the world to the way Mary's baby entered the world. I used my Eliza as a visual aid talking about how Baby Jesus was a real life baby, just like her.
Then I started to point out the differences. I told the children about the short trip to the hospital and all the medical professionals I had to help me. We talked about how Mary and Joseph had made a long journey and that her only help had come from a carpenter who knew nothing about babies. Then I asked if Mary had her baby in a hospital. The children all correctly answered, "no." So I followed up asking where Jesus had been born.
I will never forget Dylan's answer. He may have innocently confused Good Friday's symbol with Christmas's, but his immediate reply of "The Cross," has had a profound effect on me. Dylan won't turn five until mid-March, but his answer would draw the applause of many an experienced theologian.
Jesus may have been born and laid in a manger, but even then, His ultimate destination was the cross.
This Christmas season, God has repeatedly reminded me that Jesus was born for the purpose of dying.
As I hold my tiny baby, I am overwhelmed when I think of how the tiny Baby born to Mary with His tiny hands with little fingers would one day be violently nailed to a crude, rough cross. The small head, He could not yet even hold up, would one day have a crown of thorns thrust upon it. This ultimate picture of newness and innocence and purity and potential would one day become MY unrighteousness, shame and ugliness.
This is why I am celebrating Jesus this Christmas. God used Dylan's answer to draw my worship so much deeper.
Why are you?
What is God pressing on your heart this December?
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